


the sweetest devotion

by itiswhatitisbutterfly



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, Bottom Harry, Daddy Kink, Football Player Louis, Inferility, M/M, Mpreg, Mpreg Harry, Pregnancy complications, not sure if that is the correct tag because clearly harry gets pregnant okay spoiler alert, the daddy thing is not that intense okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 12:58:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6424999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itiswhatitisbutterfly/pseuds/itiswhatitisbutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So,” she smiles, a glint in her eyes and her pen tapping against her knee. “You two planning on having kids any time soon?”</p><p>Louis’ watches the way Harry’s grin falters and falls for a second in the corner of his eye. It is a microexpression anyone would miss, but not his best friend and partner. That little glint he had vanishes. And Louis tries to squeeze his palm tighter, his thumb automatically searching for the back of his hand to rub familiar little circles.</p><p>“Of course,” Harry replies. “We definitely want kids.”</p><p>Harry loved Louis at 18 when he couldn’t afford to take him on a date, at 21 when he spent all his time trying to make it and now he adores every part of him as he professionally lives his dream every single day. And he will love him no matter how long trying for a baby will take them and every day after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the sweetest devotion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inhalethedark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inhalethedark/gifts).



> To Andrea, I hope you enjoy this and I did my best to meet your prompt (actually I sort of combined two of them to make one pro football high school sweetheart wag harry mega fic) you are such an amazing writer and it has been an honour to try and make something for you! 
> 
> The fic has been a labour of love, it has honestly been the hardest thing to write. Mostly because every time I got into it, something just had to happen to make me not want to write (thanks 1D for that). But it is done, thankfully so we will not dwell on that. 
> 
> Firstly, I know absolutely nothing about football. If you love football I’m sorry, forgive all of my mistakes and errors. I tried my best. 
> 
> Secondly, the title of this fic comes from Adele - Sweetest Devotion which is written about her son and is the cutest song in the world. 
> 
> And lastly, this fic does deal with issues surrounding infertility. If you are worried at all leave a comment and I can assure you on any matters (but I’ve tagged everything that is relevant, or at least tried to do so.)

_The Tomlinson Residence. Manchester, UK_

 

The scones are set and their tea is brewing. Harry wipes his brow with the back of his palm. The sweet smell of warm baked goods mixes with the steam that rises out of the tea pot. He notes he should rearrange the flowers on the coffee table before the reporter gets here, but he barely has time as he whips off his apron. There is a knock on the door and Louis is grabbing his hands.

 

With the world cup coming up at the end of the year and Louis very much set to make the England team they are all about good promotion. When Harry was just a first year University student dating Louis Tomlinson neither of them really got it, but now almost five years later they are pros at this. Louis job is on the pitch and off, and Harry’s role extends just as far. And that is why they are been politely instructed by Louis’ managers and promotional agents to do this interview. It is rare Louis and Harry Tomlinson would be so inviting. But the feeling of it makes them both giddy.

 

“Hey,” Harry giggles as they stroll toward the front door hand in hand. Louis cocks his head and smiles at him, arching his eyebrows a little. He is so cute, Harry thinks, before he fixes his fringe from where it falls across his eye. “Much better,” Harry says, but doesn’t finish. Louis pecks his lips from where they have stopped, just a meter in front of the door. Harry lowers his hand toward his side.

 

“You do the honours?” He says against Harry’s mouth.

 

Harry grabs the door handle of their giant oak front door with one hand and tangles his fingers with his husband's, twisting them together and giving a tiny squeeze.

 

.

 

“I was sixteen and he was eighteen, we met at a party. In the bathroom of all places,” Harry shares, his nose crinkling as he remembers. “I had too much to drink, and stumbled in on him.”

 

“First proper party for this one,” Louis teases with a cheeky smile. It is the same one he had worn that evening. “I spent the rest of the night looking after him.”

 

Harry rolls his eyes at the reporter. “Oh please,” he says, the fond creeping into his words.

 

She grins back and forth at the pair of them, all wrapped up in each other on a loveseat. Harry grins at her and back at his husband, falling against his shoulder and resting his head where it is supposed to fit like a jigsaw piece. It does and he sighs with contentment. He is happy, ridiculously happy.

 

It is true. He met Louis that night and was besotted with him. He even grabbed his number, with the promise he would message him when he arrived home safely. It was Harry who asked Louis out two weeks later. But it was Louis who drove them to the drive-in cinema that weekend and the rest is history.

 

It hasn’t always been all roses however, the years spent with Harry at University and Louis balancing his promising football career were tough. But they are here now, happily married and coming past two years in a house they have always dreamt of that they designed themselves, in a city they love. Harry works tirelessly as a event planner for charities and Louis settled in Manchester United like they always dreamed.

 

“You got married in France?” she asks.

 

“In Nice!” Harry says excitedly with a nod. He grabs hold of Louis hand.

 

Louis smiles at him. “It’s just been two years.”

 

“It was at a vineyard, quite small, just us, friends and family,” Harry babbles.

 

The reporter listens carefully and watches all his hand movements as he explains the flower ornaments and table settings. Harry _is_ a event planner after all, Louis brags after he stops his monologue.

 

“So,” she smiles, a glint in her eyes and her pen tapping against her knee. “You two planning on having kids any time soon?”

 

Louis’ watches the way Harry’s grin falters and falls for a second in the corner of his eye. It is a microexpression anyone would miss, but not his best friend and partner. That little glint he had vanishes. And Louis tries to squeeze his palm tighter, his thumb automatically searching for the back of his hand to rub familiar little circles.

 

“Of course,” Harry replies. “We definitely want kids.”

 

.

 

_Honeymoon. Private Island, Fiji_

 

Harry’s chest keeps rising and falling as Louis leans over their messed up bed to hand him a glass of just poured champagne. It takes all of Harry’s strength to raise his arm to grab it. He hums in contentment and then realises he will need to sit up a little to actually drink it. It is impossible to sip from a thin wine glass while lying horizontal. Louis watches him as he pours his own, smirking a little at his naked form, as Harry huffs and shuffles around until his head is propped up on the mountain of pillows.

 

“Tough time Princess?” he teases, turning back toward him and walking toward the bed. He is absolutely beautiful, Harry thinks. And he is all his now, in wedded bliss. He watches the way his pretty ring sparkles the same way the bubbles in this Moet does. Harry darts his eyes down to his own fingers wrapped around his flute. He smiles at all 18 carats of white gold and the little diamonds that twinkle every time he turns his hand. He is obsessed. He looks back up at his husband and all of his freshly tanned summer kissed glory. He is so so obsessed.

 

“Come help me,” Harry whines. “Pour it down my throat.”

 

Louis laughs, loud and unabashed at the intentional innuendo, as he climbs back into the sheets. He jostles Harry as he grabs hold of one hip, with his free hand, and goes to mine pouring his own glass down his throat with the other. Harry opens wide and winks.

 

“Cheeky,” Louis grins.

 

Harry hums. “Drunk,” he smiles. “Love drunk,” he continues with a chuckle.

 

They have been at it for around 24 hours now, from the time the arrived here on boat and unlocked the doors to the exclusively private cabana to now. It must be the early hours of the morning and the sun is threatening to peak over the horizon, make a violent colour storm where you can see the waves breaking on the reefs. But they are here, hot and tired and incredibly in love, and married. And the sun can wait.

 

So Louis lies down next to him, tugging Harry’s legs over the top of his and wrapping his arm around his neck. They just need each other, their chests rising and falling in sync to the waves they can hear lapping on the shores just meters from the front door. They drink lazily, too tired to do anything more then peck each other on the lips every once in awhile.

 

“So,” Louis says after a while, his fingers weaving a soothing pattern into Harry’s hair. “What’s next?”

 

Harry’s eyes, that have fallen closed as he purrs like a cat, open up. “We should shower,” he says quietly.

 

When Louis doesn’t reply, he adds, “Or we could just go for a swim in the ocean.”

 

That wasn’t what Louis meant, but he can’t help but smile. He keeps rubbing Harry’s temple. “I mean, what is next on our life plan? I know you.”

 

Harry is a planner. Louis know this, and Louis loves this about him. He doesn’t have their entire future mapped out and planned out, but he does like knowing where they are going. He wanted to be married before he was twenty three and here he is now, twenty two and in a sex coma because of his incredibly athletic husband.

 

“Married. Check,” Harry giggles, raising his hand to count it off and show off his ring. “House? Check!” he continues, thinking of their brand new house that is currently being renovated so they can start their married life together in it in under two weeks.

 

“So, what is next?” Louis repeats.

 

Harry hums. He takes Louis arms, that are draped carelessly and moves them slowly to his bare belly. He smiles this shy little grin and has Louis’ favourite glint in his eyes.

 

“A baby? Still pending,” he whispers. Louis fingers trace a pattern on his skin as he grins back at him. He was waiting for that.

 

“If you’re game, I’m game. Let’s start now, let’s make a baby,” Harry continues like they haven’t been doing that all night. He willfully chooses to ignore the fact that he is on birth control.

 

Louis giggles before he kisses him all gently and soft speaking a thousand ‘I love you’s’ and ‘I adore every part of you’s’

 

“Maybe not quite yet,” he replies. He can’t help but sound regretful but it is true. The house isn’t actually done yet, he has barely settled into the new club and Harry is trying to find his footing in their new city. Plus, they should enjoy being newly married for a while. “I’ll give you as many babies as you like, but let’s take a year.”

 

He doesn’t stop staring into his eyes or tracing little patterns onto his stomach. He knows Harry won’t judge him or think he is cheesy when he traces the words I love you.

 

“Ok,” Harry replies. “We’ll see how it goes. I am still going to bug you about it every week though, you know that right babe? And whatever happens, happens.”

 

Louis laughs. “You wouldn’t be the man I loved if you didn’t.”

 

Harry knows he is right. And he tells him that. He knows it is smarter if they sort their lives out properly first before they bring new life into the world. But he can’t help but hope against his better judgement.

 

.

 

_First Anniversary. Manchester, UK._

 

Harry spends their entire anniversary dinner eyeing his husband up. It is the first time they get to celebrate their marriage in what will be a day of importance for the rest of their lives together. Also, it is important because Harry knows that Louis knows what he promised. They haven’t talked about in detail recently. But the cards are on the table. They are both ready and Harry knows they are both desperate for it. The house is done. Their jobs are thriving. And their families are waiting.

 

The idea of having a baby is just way too tempting to keep waiting on. It has been a long twelve months.

 

That is why he sits here, wearing his best baby making outfit, eyeing Louis Tomlinson up every three seconds. The restaurant is way too classy to allow such events as Harry jumping across the table and ripping Louis’ shirt open. Harry pictures it in his head and smiles softly, his tongue tracking over his bottom lip at the mental image of getting his lips on those and the table next to them gasping in shock.

 

“Dessert?” their lovely waiter asks, interrupting the couples stare down, holding out the very fancy dessert selection menu. Harry wants the chocolate cake, he moves to grab the menu with his hand.

 

“No thank you,” Louis replies. His eyes don’t move from Harry, who retracts his hand and stares back at him. “The cheque please,” Louis continues. His eyes wander, tracing the exposed panes of Harry’s naked chest where his flimsy lacy shirt barely covers anything. It is all milky white supple skin and his chocolate waves of hair brushing against his shoulders.

 

Sue Harry for wanting his first child to be convinced while he is wearing brand new Gucci and McQueen.

 

“Hurry,” Harry whispers to Louis, their waiter already gone.

 

Louis slaps his card against the table.

 

Harry is lying when he tells his friends they _never_ make it to their bedroom, they do, sometimes, especially on the odd special occasion like this. Louis does press him up against their front door, the cool wood against his practically bare back. He kisses him as the wind whips around them and the automatic lights flicker on and off. Harry lets him. Kisses him like it is their first date and they won’t be seeing each other all week cause he loves that. It always feels like the first date. But it’s not. They own this house, Harry himself designed this very entry way and they live here together, all married and domestic like he dreamed.

 

Harry frees his hand to twist the key in the door and tug him inside. With Louis’ hands grabbing at his hips, Harry tries to lead the way toward their room. He knows he looks good, he sways his hips and has a little bit more bounce to his steps. Especially because he knows Louis must be admiring his arse. He is right when Louis grabs at it and wraps his other arm around Harry’s middle. He tugs him back and Harry tries to lead them forward.

 

“Bedroom,” Harry whines as he kisses at his neck.

 

He has been doing a lot of squats, he doesn’t blame Louis’ for admiring the payoffs. These black jeans also do wonders for his thighs. As he leads them through the doorway, tugging Louis’, who is wrapped around him from the back pecking at his neck, he spins around to admire his husband.

 

“You should know,” Harry says eyeing him up and down. He’s hot. And wearing a suit that Harry helped him pick out. That makes it even more attractive. It reminds Harry of how he looked when they got married. Pale blue suit, clean white shirt to match Harry’s custom floaty white lace blouse. He continues, running a hand down the lapel of the suit and smiling, “I threw all the condoms out.” As he says it he grips the jacket and tugs them together with a naughty glint in his eye.

 

“Cheeky,” Louis replies, grinning ear to ear and looking ready to devour him.

 

“And, I’m totally not on birth control,” Harry sighs, batting his eyelashes to look innocent.

 

“You say that like you didn’t make it glaringly obvious babe.”

 

Harry giggles. “Happy anniversary,” he whispers, leaning in so his breath tickles against Louis’ skin. Their lips almost brushing against one another and their breath mingling.

 

“Happy anniversary,” Louis replies, his arms wrapping Harry up again, he hitches him up so he falls against him. “Now, let’s make this baby. I promised.”

 

They are so intune Harry can jump and have his legs around Louis’ waist, and his entire body in his arms in a second. Louis’ barely moves an inch. That is years of practice and the sex perks of being married to a professional athlete. Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ neck as he frantically begins kissing him again as he walks them backwards toward their king sized bed.

 

Louis’ knees hit the sheets and they fall together into the bed. The tender touches lay parallel to the incredible heat. They kiss until it hurts, and Louis cups his face and strokes his sides so Harry fills with gooey reminders of their wedding night. It is so incredibly hot knowing where this is leading. Harry has been waiting for this day for the entire year and maybe even longer. His heart jumps.

 

He used to try and pretend. Imagine what it would be like, picture it like this and count down the days. He wouldn’t admit to Louis, but he even used to try and pretend when they were having sex before that it was possible. That it was happening and that when he came inside him there wasn’t a stupid rubber barrier preventing what he wanted. But even that can’t compare to the feeling of this.

 

Louis carefully unbuttons Harry’s shirt, mindful of its worth, and peels it off so all of his supple skin is exposed. The light in the room is dim, cast in milky shadows and flooded in sticky humid heat created between them. Harry helps Louis out of his jacket first, and his shirt. He takes his time on the buttons and tugs it down off of his shoulders. Their clothes are carelessly discarded off the edge of the bed as their skin starts to meet.

 

“Gorgeous,” Louis whispers against Harry’s hair, kissing along where it meets his face. “Love you,” he continues. “Love being married to you. Best year of my life.”

 

Harry tugs him closer with his arms wrapped around his neck, his brings him in and kisses him fully of the lips. His legs wrapped around his lower waist and his ankles hitting his back. He wants to get rid of both of their pairs of trousers and pants. But this is so intoxicating.

He almost drowns in him and the feeling of skin hitting skin, and fingers tracing without borders.

 

“Been waiting for this for so long,” Louis says. Harry whines against him, instantly holding him closer and feeling himself be affected by the simple words.

 

“Can’t wait to have your baby,” he replies, letting go of his lips to inch back and stare at him. He is so open and honest, laying it all bare because he trusts him completely.

  
“Yeah? Can’t wait for you to have my baby,” Louis says instantly. “I want it right now.”

 

Harry smiled. “Me too.” He moves Louis palm, that rested against his chest down toward his flat stomach. “Gonna have a baby in here.”

 

“How about right now,” Louis replies with a hint of cheek. He starts unbuttoning Harry’s bottoms and has them down his legs in seconds. That is the art of marriage. He also gets his own off and it is easy to tell they are both already half hard from the talk and kissing.

 

It is frantic and hot as Harry nips at his bottom lip and scrapes his nails down Louis back. His naughty little minx getting impatient because he wants it to hurry up. When Louis’ reaches for the lube in the top drawer Harry moans and Louis swears he hears a silent, “About time” as he spreads his legs wide.

 

Louis kisses him as he pushes one finger in slowly, savouring the feeling and being as gentle as ever. Harry kisses him, wrapping his arms around his neck and tries to get lost in him as he whispers for more. Louis gives him more, adding another and slowly thrusting them in and out getting him ready. He does it the way they both like.

 

Harry tries to ignore how hard he is, focusing on the feeling of Louis’ fingers and that only. As well as the overwhelming desire of knowing what this will lead toward. It sits on the tip of his tongue and in the back of his mind with every touch and caress. They are really doing this. He could get pregnant tonight.

 

“Can’t wait to fuck you proper,” Louis whispers against the shell of his ear as he moves his fingers in just the right direction. He brushes against Harry’s most sensitive spot and that combined with his words make Harry curl up in lust and overwhelming need. He can feel himself leaking precome, all wet and needy. He loves how easily Louis can bend him to his desires and how easily it comes to them like first nature.

 

“Proper for the first time, gonna do it right,” Louis continues. “Nothing else in the way. Just me and you. The way it is supposed to be right? Yeah baby?”

 

Harry nods, biting down on his bottom lip and moaning in agreement with him. He surges up to kiss him on the lips, whispering ‘I love you’s’ against his breath.

 

“Ready?” Louis asks.

 

“Yes,” he replies, quickly. “Yes, please. Daddy.”

 

It slips out before he even notices. He only catches on from the change in Louis’ expression and the grip he has on his hip. His fingers still and he stares at Harry with a sort of fiery bewilderment. It’s then Harry realises. Whoops.

 

Harry throws the word around a lot when he wants things. But it has only been a _thing_ twice before. This one time they got really drunk and the night Louis told him he would be signing on to be a professional football player (with a professional pay cheque and a few solid endorsement deals).That seems like a lifetime ago, two different people now because the word is so loaded between them. Back then, it was hot and cheeky and slipped out when Harry was feeling particularly naughty. Now it is that, and so much more.

 

Harry blinks up at him and his dark eyes, and Louis slips his fingers out. They both know what comes next.

 

Louis coats himself in more lube, rubbing it across his hand and up and down his length. Harry watches him with eager anticipation, a watering mouth and a heart that is racketing around in his ribcage.

 

Louis holds him like he is made of gold and so delicately like he is pure silk. And Harry watches and moves for him like Louis hung the stars. They fall into each other, Louis holding him wide and he begins to push into him for the first time, completely bare and open.

 

Harry whimpers with it, from the physical feeling and the emotional toll. He feels as if he is seconds away from bursting out into tears. The happy kind, the ones that come from sheer overwhelming love. He feels Louis, hot and hard and inside of him with one purpose.

 

“Ok baby?” Louis whispers, kissing the side of his face that is hidden against his neck. “Gonna be good for Daddy.”

 

“I’m ready,” he replies. He means both now and for what they are doing, he is so ready. He was ready when he was just a teenager when he met this man and he has been waiting since. If Harry feels like he was sure about anything in life, it was this.

 

Louis moves his hips, tugging his length out of Harry and pushing against his walls penetrating him. It feels amazing, and like nothing Louis can compare it to. The feeling is great but the reminder that this is as physically close they can possibly get makes it. Harry’s ankles knock against Louis’ back and his toes curl as he moans.

 

It is slow and sensual, but that is the hottest thing they could imagine. It is sexy, Louis’ never thought Harry could ever get hotter, or more attractive but as he works himself into him over and over again he proves himself wrong. This is beyond anything he could imagine.

 

“So good,” he mumbles to Louis, as he closes his eyes.

 

Louis rolls his hips, and moves the way he knows will make Harry moan. He does, and they can’t stop praising each other, caught up in the lust and feeling. “I love being able to feel you,” Louis whispers right into his ear, breath hot and right as he thrusts his hips just right.

 

He knows Harry must be getting close. It would be impossible for him not to be. Louis is surprised he didn’t come in his pants at the restaurant he was begging for it that much. “You want me to come in you?” He says, continuing teasing and tempting him with his words.

 

Harry cries out. His fingernails dig into Louis’ shoulder blades.

 

“Yeah? You better make it happen then baby.”

 

Harry clenches around him and Louis has to squeeze his eyes shut. It puts even more pressure on his already completely spent cock. He is so close, but Harry rolls his hips trying to keep in time with Louis own movements.

 

“I’m close,” Harry whimpers.

 

“Come on, make Daddy come,” Louis replies, competely ignoring Harry’s own words. “Let me knock you up.”

 

He knew what he was doing and Harry practically arches off the bed and draws blood from Louis skin. His jaw drops and he comes against both of their chests, and pulls Louis’ down on top of him. Louis doesn’t stop moving, rolling his hips as best he can and moaning from how tight Harry becomes around him. It is that and the way Harry moans against his shoulder, hot and wet that forces Louis’ over the edge.

 

It is breathtaking grabbing hold of Harry’s hips and feeling his orgasm take over his entire body. It almost feels as if it extends to Harry as well. He pushes in and feels himself come inside of Harry bare for the first time, hot, wet and sticky. They clutch onto each other as they shudder together, and for long after.

 

He holds Harry as he cries a little and kisses him a hundred times, sighing in his arms. As much as Harry would love to have Louis inside him forever, he does have to pull out. He does so slowly, holding Harry’s hand in his own. Harry pouts a little and Louis watches in fascination as he clenches hard trying his best to not let one drop of Louis’ come seep out.

 

“Feels amazing,” Harry sighs, a little to himself. Louis can tell he is practically fucked out. He wraps him up in his arms. “I love having you in me,” he whispers before he falls asleep, their fingers joint together and pressed over Harry’s soft warm stomach.

 

.

 

Harry didn’t tell Louis, because he has a plan and everything. It is a plan he has prepared since he was seventeen and Louis told him he couldn’t wait to have a family with him when he got little drunk off wine they stole from the cellar at Harry’s step dad’s holiday home the first time they went away together. The plan involves a cake, a card, a positive pregnancy test and making it the happiest moment of their lives.

 

So he doesn’t tell him when he sneaks a test into their trolley under the bread. And he hides it in their bottom draw under the sink in the bathroom for three days. He waits for Louis to kiss him goodbye as he runs off to training until he takes it out.

 

Harry bought the ingredients for the cake and everything.

 

But when the timer goes off and he grabs the plastic stick the picture is wrong. He triple checks the box because that can’t possibly be true. But it is. And it sucks the way his eyes well up and he hides in deep at the bottom of the kitchen rubbish bin.

 

It doesn’t matter because it is the first time, and that would spoil all their fun anyway he reasons with himself. When Louis’ asks why he baked a cake, he says it is simple because he adores him that much. And that is that.

 

But six months later nothing had happened. And Harry watched everyone around him get what he so desperately wanted. And the days felt like weeks, and the weeks dragged for months. And then a whole year later he was no closer to being pregnant than he was two years ago on their honeymoon. And it hurt.

 

The empty kind of hurt. The ache you get in the middle of the night when no matter how tight Louis’ arms are around his waist the cold seeps in. He knows Louis hurts too but he can’t help but wonder if it is the same kind. The kind that makes Harry avoid certain isles in the supermarket and zone out of conversations if they sting too much.

 

.

 

_Old Trafford. Manchester, UK._

 

Harry rocked Mila against his hip as they stood up in the crowded private box. It was reserved for family only and was relatively quiet as they stood around waiting the last pre match training session before one of this seasons home games. It was only an hour or two before the team would properly take the pitch. It was nice to find some solace in the madness.

 

Harry pointed out the little specks on the green to Mila but she was more interested in his coat lapel. If her mum was lucky she would be asleep now, but she isn’t and Harry is babysitting while she fetches some food for herself.

 

The other wives, girlfriends and partners mill around and Harry is fondly used to being one of the only males. He is sure it will be similar going into the world cup. And for the rest of the time Louis’ is professionally playing.

 

Emma returns making funny faces at her daughter who giggles. Louis and her husband Niall started at Man U around the same time, with their husbands quickly becoming close friends so did Harry and Emma. They found it easy to relate to moving cities in a rush, having athlete husbands and their love of soy flat whites. And wanting families.

 

Mila was a surprise honeymoon baby, born just four months ago.

 

She drops a bag on the table next to the wide windows and Harry hands Mila back to her, instantly missing the warmth she provided. “Thanks H,” she replies as she tests the temperature of the warmed up bottle and starts feeding her. “You’re a lifesaver.”

 

He smiles at her. “Happy to help.”

 

The smile she gives back is tinged with a little sadness. “No luck yet?”

 

“Nope,” Harry replies not thinking of the brand new negative pregnancy test lying in their bathroom at home from his failed attempt this morning. “Can you believe we might be going to Russia? Of all places” he says instead of dwelling.

If she notices his diversion she doesn’t mention it, instead she says, nodding and propping Mila up, “It is going to be insane, we’re going to need to do some serious coat shopping.”

 

.

 

Harry has been working all day and it is a Sunday. He feels a little guilty as he parks his car in the driveway and climbs out, but he is tired and if he thinks about charity drives for one more minute he might just go insane and scream. He closes the driver's door with a thud and grabs a load of things from the boot.

 

He walks the couple of meters to their front door, his feet dragging along and the automatic light flickering on with its sensor. He can see all the lights are on inside, he guesses Louis’ must be home (or he just left all the lights on _again_ ).

 

Before his hand can reach other toward the doorknob someone else opens it from inside. Harry’s husband himself is waiting, all flustered and pretty. “You’re home earlier than I thought,” he smiles, and automatically reaching out his hands to grab at the things Harry is holding and placing them to the side.

 

Harry easily gives them up and his entire body feels a little lighter. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he grumbles.

 

“It means,” Louis smiles, grabbing Harry’s hand and tugging him inside and trying to get him to grin. “I haven’t finished making dinner, ‘cause my timing sucks and I always underestimate how long food takes to make.”

 

In Harry’s head he was automatically running through the list of ingredients in their kitchen and how quickly he could whip them up dinner with minimal effort. He sighs as the weight is lifted off of his shoulders.

 

“Babe,” Harry sighs blissfully. “You’re too good.”

 

Louis smiles Harry’s favourite smile and Harry can’t help but fall into his husband's arms. He smells nice like clean shirts and the powder Harry uses on their white items. He also smiles like basil and garlic and that smells like the sweet aroma of marriage to him. Louis runs his fingers through Harry’s hair and all its messy glory while Harry hums and kisses his cheek, his lips getting tickled by his early evening scruff.

 

“Got a secret to tell you,” Louis whispers as they sway together in their doorway.

 

Their cat, Leia, is meowing because she wants to be fed. Harry is pretty sure the something Louis is cooking in their kitchen is threatening to burn. And Harry really needs to change his shirt, take off his shoes and wash his hair but he loves this moment.

 

“What?” He smiles, looking up and stopping his kissing.

 

Louis pauses. Harry starts trying to tickle under his arms causing Louis’ body to recoil.

 

“Alright, I got you something,” he finally says. “But don’t tell anyone.”

 

From his back pocket Louis grabs a plain white envelope and hands it to Harry without another word. Harry carefully opens the envelope to pull out a private booking form for a luxury private getaway. His eyes skim over the picture of the cottage where Louis has picked for them to stay, it practically looks like a castle. It wasn’t what he expected but after two and a bit years of marriage Harry should know Louis’ surprises better.

 

“What’s this for?” he asks as he reads the details, three nights, private residence, national park. He can’t believe how accurately Louis picked where he would love to go and stay. He guesses, that is why they are married.

 

Louis smiles as he rubs his palms along the lines of Harry’s shoulders and upper arms. He watches the way his eyes dart across the paper. “I just wanted to make you happy,” he replies quietly. He waits a few seconds before continuing, trying his best to not do any damage with his words or put them on shaky ground. “I saw the test in the bathroom.”

 

Harry doesn’t pull away. He nevers pulls away. He presses his face back into Louis neck and wraps his arms around him once more. The paper and envelope resting in one hand against Louis back, as he sighs.

 

“I didn’t want to tell you,” he says softly. “Didn’t want to disappoint you especially since I told you I thought it was a maybe.”

 

Those words tug at something sharp in Louis, it makes him hold Harry a little tighter and shake his head. “You could never,” he replies.

 

It’s hard. He hates how Harry takes the burden of this. They don’t know why it hasn’t happened yet, they haven’t had a doctor point a finger at either one of them. They’ve just been told the right things to keep trying and the wrong things to stop doing, but he can’t help it. He can’t prevent this burden Harry keeps placing on himself. He will avoid showing it to Louis, but Louis’ his husband. And he knows it, he sees it and he can feel it. And all it does is hurt the both of them.

 

“I love you,” he continues, kissing him properly now. The paper falls onto the marble floor and Harry smiles against the kiss now, all thoughts of longing and loss forgotten for the moment. The cat keeps meowing and Harry is now one hundred percent sure if something is in the oven it is burning but he keeps kissing his husband.

 

.

 

It works out perfectly because Louis has a little down time before he flies out at the end of the week. Harry will stay home for his work commitment he can’t miss. This is the perfect excuse to make up for that eventual lost time.

 

Harry packs their bags that night and is thankful he hadn’t planned anything for the next three days. They load the car up around 6 in the morning, with bags, two thermos of hot tea and themselves and start the drive (after dropping Leia off at Gemma’s with her bed and her favourite soft toy mouse). Harry tries to get Louis’ to agree to switching driver half way but he insists it isn’t that far and Harry deserves the rest.

 

Harry instead turns up the radio loudly and sings at the top of his lungs. He doesn’t once think of anything else or things that make him blue. Because there is a winter sunshine breaking through the clouds, and he is here in this moment, with the one he loves.

 

“Stop you’re making me laugh,” Louis wheezes.

 

“Never,” Harry giggles, as his knee jumps and hits the glove box. His laughter only echoing louder as they drive down an empty road, just trees and fields for miles.

 

“You look like a movie, you sound like a song,” he sings, serenading his husband. “My god, this reminds me of when we were young.”

 

Louis catches his grin. “It’s a sad song you dork, stop that.”

 

Harry laughs so loud his whole body shakes. “But it’s true,” he replies, the music drowning out.

 

“You sap.”

 

“You love me.”

 

.

 

_Lakes District, UK._

 

The lodgings they are staying in are scattered around one farm in individual units with one central building. The building, the castle looking one as Harry fondly calls it, is where they pull up and park the car. It is probably a couple of hundred years old easily.

  
The two of them and their bags are escorted down toward their own villa, nestled between trees and hidden away from the world. It is much more modern, but styled in the look of the area. The owner rattles on about food they offer in the grand hall and all the eating options available in the village down the road. But they are barely listening, Louis looks so nice in his shearling jacket that Harry got him last christmas. He is so in love and thankful and doesn’t stop tugging on his hand even when they open the front door and are left all alone.

 

“We have our own fireplace,” Harry gasps. “I love that.”

 

Louis watches as his husband points it out to him and he makes a mental note. Next house, fireplaces in bedrooms.

 

He gently places all their bags in the master bedroom. The fitting are all very modern but with a deliberately antique feel, with the big pillars and grand rugs, to the giant free standing claw bath tub. Louis sneaks up behind Harry as he peeks his head out the windows that showcase picturesque views of hills that extend as far as they eyes can take them. He wraps his arms around his waist and Harry melts into him, as soft and sedated as ever. If that was Louis’ goal for this trip, he has achieved it three minutes in.

 

It is close to lunch but they are both pretty exhausted with the early start and the long drive. Harry rests his head on Louis’ shoulder, and hums contently as they sway back and forth. “I could fall asleep here right now,” he whispers.

 

“You want to have a bath?”

 

Harry lights up like it is the best idea in the world. He tugs him toward the bathroom and they fill the bath up until the piping hot water licks at the edges of the marble. They undress each other slowly, all movements heavy and weighted like each and every item that they drop to the floor. Louis tests the water first, dipping his toes in and deeming it an alright and acceptable temperate. They both flop into together, falling into each other with a tangled mess of limbs and hot water.

 

They decide to ban any talk of work. It feels like it has been the only thing on their minds for weeks now. The also seem to silently agree to not talk of babies. Harry settles against his chest as they talk and then fall into the occasional silence, Louis doesn’t stop running his finger through his hair and soothing him. Harry loves their silences. He loves the comfort of just being and loving him.

 

Soon the water runs cold and the conversation lulls so they climb back out, wrapped in fluffy towels, they dry each other off and head back toward the bedroom. They don’t bother with clothes as they climb into bed, the plan was to snuggle up and fall asleep, having lunch on the road meant they had the perfect chance to catch a nap, but like always it turns into something else.

 

It starts with gentle touches and soft eyes and smiles. But Harry leans in for the kiss, too engrossed in how wonderful his partner is to care. It’s the soft kind. The kisses that last forever, each press of lips like a lifetime and a live wire. They love this, don’t get the chance to do it nearly enough. It is nice to just kiss, and only kiss for the sake of kissing to be kissed. But eventually the tangle of limbs and warm lips becomes too much, the slow sedated pace set by their bath bleeds into something more.

 

It is the atmosphere. This cabin in the middle of a barren field on the edge of the woods, the way they don’t have to bother with closing the curtains or the blinds, no one can see them from miles here. It is the crackle of the fire Louis’ lit, because it is cold and it smells of damp oak and heavy blankets and deep sleeps.

 

Before they both realise Harry is panting into Louis’ mouth, and Louis himself is grinding up against his leg. The rub up against each other as fingers tangle into hair and teeth nip at lips or nails rake down backs. “I need,” Harry whimpers,”more.”

 

He is breathless as Louis’ flips them over, pressing him into the sheets and moving his body the way Harry desires. That is the best thing about married sex, complete trust and knowledge, Harry always thinks. Louis must agree, because he can bend him like a bow and knows every inch of skin or touch of a finger to drive him wild again and again without fail.

 

Louis’ hand slips down between the sheets that are tangling between their legs to grab at Harry, he gets a hand on Harry’s cock. He feels the hitch of his breath as he wraps his fingers around him and strokes, feeling how hard and wet he is already. Harry hums and grips onto Louis hair, his fingers wrapped in it as his husband bites away at his neck. Harry’s mouth drops open in a gasp when he nips at his skin. “I need you,” he sighs, “I want you inside so bad.”

 

That stutters Louis’ rhythm. He was, so far leading them, but now his hand falters and he groans into his partners chest. “Please,” Harry whispers, grinding his hips up, “Always need it so bad.”

 

“Ain’t that the truth,” Louis replies, cheeky as always. He can’t help but look up at him and grin. “I love you,” he adds, not taking his eyes off of him. Harry likes the way he looks, so happy and finally settled, he actually looks completely free from the stress of late.

 

“Love you too, that’s why there is lube in the side drawer already,” Harry replies because he does look beautiful, but Harry is really horny right now and all he wants his for this beautiful man to pin him on this bed and give him what he has asked for. “Hurry up, I want to make a baby,” he continues, with a cheeky laugh and pinch of his shoulder.

 

It doesn’t matter how stressful it has been, how many times Harry’s eyes have welled up in the bathroom or from a simple harmless throwaway comment, this is always fun. He is safe with Louis and always has the chance to forget all those things. This has always been just as exciting and fun as the first time after they decided to try all that time ago.

 

Louis’ rolls over to search through the side drawer and Harry kisses up his back along his spine, admiring every grove and dip because they are his. “My favourite activity,” Louis says cheekily. When he turns back he can see the fire in his partners eyes, and he pins him back between the sheets. He uncaps the bottle with one hand and Harry spreads his legs with a sly look, he hitches his legs against Louis.

 

He slicks up his fingers and wastes no time. He pulls a moan out of Harry as he enters him. Louis would love to savour the moment, lay here together and take him apart finger by finger and with every flick and movement, but Harry is the opposite. “Quick,” he moans. “Another,” he pants, arching his back and tugging at Louis’ hair.

 

It is all over then. He can’t help but give in and he is pushing into him suddenly. It is so hot and they are pressed flush against the sheets, none of the cold airing seeping in. Louis’ chest pushes against Harry’s as he thrusts his hips, pushing into him over and over again. It is incredibly hot and the kind of moment that doesn’t last long.

 

Louis is hot and hard inside him, and Harry is hot, wet and desperate rubbing up against their chests. “God, you’re amazing,” Louis breathes, laboured and heavy as his lungs gasp.

 

He loves this. Here in this cabin, all alone and together. It feels like nothing else matters, he can just feel Harry, Harry, Harry and the cool glint of his wedding band as his palm touches his cheek.

 

“Want you to come,” Harry says. “Come inside of me. I want to feel it.”

 

The groan Louis lets out is entirely predictable.

 

“Please,” he begs. “Get me all wet, I want to have your baby. Please.”

 

Louis is only human. And him coming almost instantly is predictable. Harry moans as he feels it, going lax against their sheets and letting his head hit the pillow. He juts his hips just a little, rubbing himself off and taking Louis through it. Always the perfect partner, Louis wraps a hand around him and tugs him off. His other palm rubbing against his sensitive nipples. Harry comes just as quickly into his palm.

 

“Love you,” Louis says as he peppers his flushed cheeks in kisses as Harry slowly comes down.

 

“Love you too,” he sighs. “But roll over I need to lift my hips up.”

 

Louis groans and does as he is told. Harry ignores the way under his breath he moans about what a load of shit that theory is and Harry pinches his arm. But he is already falling asleep.

 

.

 

Two hours later Louis is the first to wake. He releases his grip on Harry and slides out of the covers, the room now dim as the late afternoon falls. It takes him a few minutes to find the tea and coffee carefully left out for them and their enjoyment, and another few to work the jug. But eventually it boils and he has two hot mugs of tea that he carries back to their bedroom.

 

Harry is blinking lazily up at him when Louis walks back in. His hair is ruffled and has dried curly, he normally sleeps with it tied up (to avoid Louis suffocating on mouthfuls) but they fell asleep too quickly. It twists around his ears and frames his face. He looks angelic and Louis regrets that he was probably the one to spoil his rest.

 

“Thought you’d left me,” he says, a little smile creeping in. Harry’s voice sounds the way it does whenever they wake up when it is cold, so familiar to Louis.

 

“Only to make your tea, sorry I must have woken you when I slipped out,” Louis replies. He climbs back in his side of the duvet and switches the lamp on the bedside table to full beam. It casts a warm glow. Harry extends his palms and takes the mug with a simple affectionate blown kiss to his husband.

 

He hums as he inhales the smell. “You let all the cold in, of course I woke up when my personal heater disappeared.”

 

They stay like that for a while, snuggled up under their merino blankets, naked and basking in each other’s presence. But eventually the tea is finished or it just goes cold and they are left alone again.

 

“I need to fix my hair, probably have a quick show and then,” Harry rambles. “I think we ought to go for a walk, while the weather is holding up, and before the sun sets. I did bring my camera after all. We need to go into town and buy some items, grocery items. I want to cook us a nice dinner.”

 

Louis smiles at him softly. It sounds like a wonderful plan but he likes the idea of staying here better.

 

“Or, we could lay here forever,” he counteracts.

 

“That too.”

 

Now seems like the perfect time, so Louis leans back over the side of the bed leaving Harry to just watch him with a quizzical eye. He returns with a black box in his palm and a guilty look in his eyes.

 

“Are you proposing to me again?” Harry teases. “Because in bed, naked at around 3pm doesn’t beat that helicopter ride and mountain view the first time around.”

 

It’s true. Louis took him in a helicopter to the top of a snowy mountain, walked him to the perfect spot where the sun kissed the horizon, and kissed him before getting down on one knee.

 

“Nope, just like buying you nice things,” Louis replies, telling the truth and opening the box with his other hand.

 

It is opulent and Louis watches the way Harry’s eyes double in size as he takes the pendant in. As Harry’s hand reaches out to touch it and run a finger across the metal, Louis fingers reach out and tug at the worn silver cross draped around his neck. It is the only thing he has got on and he toys with it. “Thought a new one would be nice,” he says.

 

Harry’s finger grazes over the white gold and the diamonds that adorn this cross in the box. He sighs, “It’s so pretty.”

 

“Like you, my love,” Louis smiles, seeing the chance and taking it. He pecks him against the cheek.

 

“It is way too much to wear everyday.”

 

“Keep it for special occasions then, do whatever you want with it doll,” Louis says as he takes it out of the box.

 

Harry reaches behind his neck and unhooks his chain so Louis can exchange the pendants.

 

“I just want to remind you that I love you, and I am so proud of you,” he continues.

 

Harry knows he means it because he barely looks at him. He focuses on tugging the old one off and putting the new one onto the chain.

 

“I know we haven’t had the smoothest months lately and it has been tough on you, and I want you to know you’ve always got me and you can always talk to me.”

 

He laces the chain back around Harry’s neck and leans in close to hook it. When finishes he lets it drop against his chest, the diamonds catching in the light from the lamp. Harry looks down at it lovingly and runs a finger across it.

 

“I know,” he says. “I think I need to talk to you now.”

 

Harry feels safe here. He always feels safe in Louis’ arms, but here and now he feels so confident that everything is ok and is going to be alright. Louis nods and urges him to continue with soothing touches.

 

“I think,” Harry begins, looking him dead set in the eyes. “We should stop trying to have a baby.”

 

It is the most un-Harry thing Louis has ever heard him say. And he tries not to show his shock, Louis furrows his brows and tilts his head.

 

“I mean, like let’s stop worrying about it so much, let’s just stop trying and see what happens,” Harry tries to continue. “I feel like what we are doing now just isn’t working, clearly it isn’t in our hands to force it to work so we - I need to stop stressing over it all the time. Let’s just enjoy these next few months, and then-”

 

He sighs.

 

“I don’t know, we can make an appointment with a fertility expert and go from there. But I don’t want to dwell on that now.”

 

Louis holds him tight and nods along. “Are you worried about me?” he asks. Because he knows. He knows Harry frets over him and worries about his high demand and high stress job. It doesn’t just take a huge toll physically but also mentally. And all of this baby business has been a pressure on them both.

 

Harry pouts. “You’ve got so much going on at work, we’ve got the world cup and everything I don’t want you stressed over this.”

 

“And?” Louis continues asking.

 

“It doesn’t mean we stop trying, if you know what I mean,” Harry winks. “We both just need to stop thinking about.”

 

Louis just wants what he wants. And he desperately wants Harry to be happy. “If you think it is what is best,” he replies.

 

Harry smiles softly at him and nods. But Louis continues talking. “But I know we’re going to have a baby, I just know it. And you’re going to be the most amazing dad. I know that without a doubt in my mind.”

 

The way he says it with full certainty makes Harry’s eyes shine with fresh emotion. This is why he loves him, this is why he chose him and chooses him every single day for the rest of his life. “Thank you,” he says falling into his chest and wrapping them up together.

 

.

It is Niall’s birthday two weeks later and there is a low key late afternoon barbeque. He will of course, eventually celebrate by getting ridiculously drunk, when he is allowed. But as of right now it is strict diet and no late nights.

 

Louis flips the meat on the barbeque in the backyard as he desperately avoids catching a chill and wanting to drink a beer. He watches the chicken brown instead and tries to contribute as best as he can to the conversation flowing around him.

 

It is mostly their teammates, the married ones, and other friends and crew members. Louis’ can’t help but notice the number of children that run around amongst their legs and in the leaves the litter the yard.

 

And it isn’t hard to ignore Harry. He is a sight as he gently rocks baby Mila asleep. Louis can see him pacing around the kitchen inside from where he stands. Harry appears to be singing as she slowly closes her eyes and stop wailing.

 

“Emma wants to keep him,” Niall says, interrupting Louis train of thought.

 

“What?”

 

“Harry,” he replies. “She wants to keep him, live-in nanny. How much you willing to trade? You can take our dog.”

 

“I am not trading my husband for your border collie,” Louis laughs.

 

Niall does too. He pats a palm against Louis’ shoulder. “She’s always bragging about how good he is, a right natural that one.”

 

Louis watches Harry prop the infant against his shoulder and kiss her head. Emma frantically preparing food and grabbing at bowls for the salads, seems to mouth “Thank you,” a thousand times.

 

“She’s not wrong,” he says.

 

At that moment Harry seems to look up and out the window, catching both of their eyes through the glass. He smiles at Louis, soft and tender.

 

Louis can’t help but picture their future. The one they so desperately crave. He mouths I love you and Harry’s cheeks blush red as he keeps rocking back and forth. But he still mouths it back to him.

 

.

 

_National Sporting Awards. London, UK._

 

“Louis! Louis! Over here,” the sea of reporters shout from behind the wall of flashing lights.

 

Louis wraps an arm around Harry’s middle and tugs him toward his side, Harry fist instantly finds its spot on his chest and he smiles up at him. It is a small act, but Harry loves the way it makes him feel. There are few occasions in the year they would ever make red carpet appearances together, the National Sporting Awards being the most important. Plus, a few days in London is always lovely. Harry sometimes can’t help but feel a little out of his league, especially because sometimes it feels like half the spouses or partners here are also within the sporting industry. Louis grins at him and takes his hand to lead them on.

 

They have given them enough pictures to last the year.

 

“Harry, are you proud of Louis?” One gets in before they can escape.

 

“Always,” Harry replies proudly and as soft as ever. He is. He was proud of him at sixteen and he is still just as proud as ever now, he will always be his biggest cheerleader no matter what. And he knows Louis will always be the same to him because that is how their team of two works.

 

Their table is filled with the team, their partners, family and all the team that isn’t on the field. As well as a load of champagne and decadent food that keeps on coming. Harry opts out of the alcohol and Emma gives him a wink. It is exuberant and lavish and at times they barely pay attention to the actual going ons of the evening because they are too focused on having a good time.

 

They aren’t too fussed if they leave empty handed. Louis still leaves with the best prize of all and gets to take him back to their ridiculously expensive already paid for hotel and strip him down to nothing and eat him out like the world is ending. So who cares for boring medals, or cups anyway?

 

.

 

Harry pushes the bridge of his sunglass up his nose to stop them from sliding down with one finger. He scoops up more of his brunch, free range scrambled eggs on rye with blanched spinach but it stays on the fork and doesn’t reach his mouth.

 

“Honey, you alright? You’re being awfully quiet,” his mother complains across from him. She happily eats down her brunch and sips her morning coffee in the sunshine.

 

Harry pouts his bottom lip out a little. “Just not feeling that great, a little tired and all.”

 

She reaches her hand across the table and grabs his from where it rests and gives it a tight squeeze. Her smile is gentle. “Let’s go to the antique place we’ve been trying to get to for months now, it’s just around the corner.”

 

He loves her.

 

Three weeks after they first tried for a baby Harry got a headache and immediately rushed to the pharmacy. He was wrong. But he kept being that obsessive, no matter how bad the failure felt.

 

He feels queasy after the early brunch with his mother and it will not go away how hard he tries and whilst strolling through the supermarket two hours later he somehow ends up in the medical supplies section. He tries to keep walking but, what if?

 

The food might have just not been agreeing with his stomach. Or it could line up with the fact that he has been feeling a little tired these last few days. But he has thought these thoughts a thousand times and been wrong every single time. Besides, he made Louis promise to not stress over it. It isn’t fair if Harry doesn’t follow his own rules. They aren’t supposed to be trying.

 

He pretends to look at the vitamins as people walk past. He feels like everyone is watching so before it starts eating away at him anymore he reaches down and grabs it. He only hesitates a little before he throws it in the trolley and tries to hide it underneath the lettuce in case he runs into someone he might know.  His face flushes red.

 

It won’t kill him if it comes out negative. And Louis’ never has to know.

 

The checkout girl smiles as she scans the items. She has served him here a thousand times considering it is their local, he frequently comes at the same time on the same day of the week, and she always asks on Louis if he isn’t present. Their little private area of town is like that and they are very familiar faces in the district. She grins as she scans the pregnancy test but doesn’t say a word.

 

Harry grabs the bags and runs because he feels incredibly stupid.

 

.

 

 _Carrington. Manchester, UK_.

 

It is closed practice and Harry, typically when he needed it most, also forgot his pass. The shiny laminated piece of plastic that is his ticket between where he stands now, the outer gates, to where he needs to be, running down the corridors toward where he knows Louis’ must be either warming down to take lunch, or stuck with the team physio.

 

“Paul,” Harry whines. His pouty, sunglasses hidden, face sticking out the window of his Rover. “Please, don’t make me call Preston. Because then he’ll call Louis, and you don’t want him leaving the grounds to walk all the way out here to escort me in. And you know how much Van Gaal hates that. We will never hear the end of it. You remember last time.”

 

“I’m not supposed to let you in at all today Harry, let alone without a pass,” he replies. But he seems to be budging. Harry knows his weak spots. He has been stuck in this spot too many times before. But never this pressing and urgent a situation. He needs into the grounds right now or he might explode.

 

Harry grins. “But you know who I am, I’m your favourite. Also, it is very important. Like, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.”

 

“Fine-”

 

“Thank you!” Harry says, trying to lean out the window to grab at him in a cuddle, all long limbs and air kisses.

 

“Tell them to call me if they give you trouble.”

 

Harry manages to give him a pat on the back, as he is handed his temporary pass and the gates are opened.

 

The time it takes him to park the car and dart out of it is a mere matter of seconds. He doesn’t even remember if he put the handbrake on. He darts across the asphalt quickly, pass in hand and utterly clueless to where he will find his husband at this hour. And he isn’t an expert at finding his way around the training complex.

 

But he does flash his pass with ease, hopefully assuming everyone knows who he is, thankfully he is left alone. His boots click against the tiled floors as he runs around trying to find someone he recognises, a familiar face in a sea of unknown ones.

 

“Liam!” Harry shouts, as he spots the physio down he end of the narrow hall to his left, closing a door. Liam looks up and smiles. Liam is a very familiar face after the long weeks he spent visiting them at home after Louis serious ankle problem last season that benched him for most of the end of the season last year. Harry would always make Liam lunch for putting up with Louis’ constant whining.

 

“Hey, Harry,” he says, stepping out from the door he was about to walk into.

 

“Where is Louis hiding?” Harry practically shouts.

 

“I just had him, about 10 minutes ago,” Liam says regretfully, probably sensing Harry’s urgency. “Said he was about to grab his stuff and make a break for lunch. Not supposed to do much after me working on that ankle.”

 

Harry nods, his wild hair flying everywhere. He adjusts the glasses he has perched on his head as a makeshift headband. “Alright,” Harry replies, thinking. “Thanks for the help.”

 

Harry thinks he knows where he is. He starts off walking, and it turns into a brisk jog quickly. He just wants him in his arms. He needs him, he has to see his face and he can’t wait any longer at all.

 

He is at the door in three seconds, practically breathless, red cheeked and grinning as wide as he possibly can he swings the door open revealing the players changing rooms and lounges. He is not supposed to be here.

 

“Louis,” he shouts as he sees him, his head in his bag and shirtless.

 

Harry fails to see the rest of the people in the room. Louis’ teammates smile as he unexpectedly catches sight of his partner because Louis’ face lights up the way it usually does and Harry recognises it immediately. No longer is Louis focused on what is in his hands as it is discarded to the side and the room limits to one person.

 

“Hey babe-” Louis begins, sounding surprised and a little confused.

 

But Harry is already walking toward him, determined and shaking his head, grinning ear to ear and jumping out of his skin.

 

“I’ve got something to tell you,” he replies when he reaches him.

 

The rest of the room has fallen silent, not that the couple cares, the room could be burning but Louis’ only sees Harry.

 

“Yeah,” Louis smiles, nonchalant and still not catching on.

 

“Yeah,” Harry grins, his face threatening to break in two. He clears his throat and says the two words he has been waiting forever to say, “I’m pregnant.”

 

It is the first time he has said it aloud. Although, he only found out an hour ago. But it feels like sticky sweet syrup and the way Louis’ eyes triple in size and his jaw drops open feels just as decadently good. It almost verges on too much for his heart to handle.

 

“Holy shit,” Louis deadpans. “Fuck,” he says again, louder, as he tries to form some sort of coherent sentence, he gives up and grabs hold of him. “I don’t believe you,” he laughs.

 

“I’m serious. I’m pregnant,” Harry giggles again as Louis grabs him so tight his feet leave the ground. “I’m having a baby! We’re actually having a baby!” he sing songs, giddy with excitement as Louis swings him around. “Would I ever lie about that?”

 

“Oh my god, I love you so much,” Louis replies as he kisses his face, peppering his cheeks and pecking his lips. “Fuck.”

 

They barely notice the way the rest of the room catcalls, hollers and claps for their unexpected display of affection and joy. And Niall’s not so silent tears. Because Louis’ heart is beating a thousand times a second and Harry’ won’t let go. And they are having a baby. And if Louis holds him tight enough he might just feel two heart beats. And this is really _really_ happening.

 

.

It is a secret. A terrible one, because the entire team already knows, but the fact that Harry is finally pregnant is not public knowledge. They are bursting at the seams wanting to share the news, but after the struggle to get to where they were now and the gloomy feeling in the back of their heads they can’t shake, they know it is better off to wait a little longer.

 

But secrets are fun.

 

“What do you want?” Harry whispers across the sheets. “Boy or girl. And no cheating, you have to say one or another.”

 

They have the bedside lamps on and the covers pulled up over their heads. It casts a golden glow over their bodies and Harry lies there next to him and he has never looked so wonderful. This is like nothing before, because every other time had been hypothetical and them playing in a land of make believe. Now it is real, and this conversation won’t end in the bad kind of tears. Louis squeezes their intertwined fingers before pouting. “But what if my answer is I really don’t mind either-”

 

“That is against the rules,” Harry giggles. “You’ve gotta give me an answer.”

 

“I like this,” Louis says instead, counting the laughter lines that ripple Harry’s face, crawling out from his eyes and down his rosy cheeks. He doesn’t know if it is possible but Harry is glowing, maybe it is because he really is having their baby or all this hot air is going to Louis’ head. But he is a sight. And he is growing their baby right now, that is so magical it seems out of this world. “I love seeing you so….happy.”

 

It is so simple and Harry brings their joined fingers together against his bare stomach. It is nothing but a flat plane, no curve or mark. But they can feel it.

 

“You make me happy,” Harry replies. “And how can I not be happy with this gift you’ve given me?”

 

“That I’ve given you?” Louis scoffs. “Baby, this is all you.”

 

“Yeah, well if I remember correctly I didn’t do it alone,” Harry smirks with an arch of his eyebrow. He smiles down at their hands. “It barely feels real,” he mutters to himself. But it is, he has the doctor’s approval and everything. “Feels like a dream.”

 

“Aren’t we lucky?” Louis replies.

 

“The luckiest. I get you,” Harry says, looking back at him. “And the wonderful honour of bringing mini you into this world.”

 

.

 

“They look like they’re waving!” Harry giggles, raising his and Louis’ intertwined fingers to point at the screen where their tiny little dot wiggles around.

 

“Hiya,” Louis smiles, jostling their hands around in greeting. Harry smiles like he can’t believe this is actually happening and they are sitting in this room right now with the doctor and technician staring at them getting their early start on being the world’s most obnoxious parents.

 

They have the best of the best, they made sure of it. But as far as everyone is aware things are going as smoothly as possible.

 

“It’s just my back hurts a little,” Harry says when she asks him of any complications. “But that always happens. I actually haven’t felt that sick really.”

 

Lisa moves her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and scribbles some notes down. “I see,” she replies. “Just take it easy when possible and we will see what happens as we progress . But other than that, Harry, you two look absolutely fantastic.”

 

“Really?” Both Harry and Louis say with a sigh of relief.

 

“Yes,” she replies with a slight smile and a gentle laugh like their worries are completely normal and she hears and sees them every single day.

 

They weren’t trying to expect the worse but they couldn’t help it. Harry had it up in his head he was going to be bed ridden from day one and walking out a tightrope the entire nine months. Louis was also silently worried, tossing and turning in bed for the last few days leading up to their appointment today.

 

“Just because someone has a little trouble conceiving doesn’t mean they will have a difficult pregnancy, so relax and take it easy,” she says getting ready to leave them. “It’s good for the little one. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

 

.

 

_Madrid, Spain._

 

The second they are off the pitch with a win it always feels like an adrenaline rush. The loud crowds in the stands, no matter where they are in the world, and the feeling of the boys around you cheering you on. Louis walks off the field in Madrid with a grin on his face and avoiding the microphones of reporters. That is the job for the manager and their captain. It is his job to celebrate.

 

Louis has the promise of a long ice bath, maybe a bottle of champagne and a flight out of here in the morning when dawn cracks over the horizon. And the possibility of speaking to Harry on the phone. He is always sure he will have a ‘Good job x’ message in his inbox but he desperately hopes Harry has the strength to wait up to talk. He wouldn’t celebrate any other way.

 

He has multiple arms slung around him and more hands patting him on the back, head and shoulder than he can count when they walk down the corridors to the away changing rooms.

 

Like always the party is starting and Louis tries to grab a bottle before Niall. But he barely has time to relax his muscles and take a breather before someone is tapping his shoulder. Cal, their head of media and relations on the ground, tugs Louis out of the room. Louis is buzzed, off excitement and energy. But the look on Cal’s face triggers something inside.

 

“Louis,” he says, taking him into the next room. He clicks the door shut. It’s quiet, with only the muffled noise from next door threatening to leak in and the hum on the crowds above them. He is a serious man and anyone but those who know him well would be able to spot the tiny wrinkle of worry in his forehead. “I’ve had a call from your mother-in-law. Louis, Harry is in hospital.”

 

It isn’t what he was expecting. But at the same time,  maybe it was.

 

“We’re- He’s having a baby,” he replies instantly, mouth dry and tongue heavy as feels like someone else is speaking the words that come out of his mouth. The three words make his world flip on its axis and the room spins beneath Louis’ feet in a millisecond. He can’t help the bad feeling he has had sitting at the back of his head and in the depth of his stomach. From the moment Harry told him to know it feels as if it has been going fairytale perfect.

 

They’re having a baby. Harry is in hospital. Their baby is in hospital. She’s going to have green eyes, he knows it. They’re supposed to call her Quinn. He loves her already. He needs her to be okay.

 

“I know,” he says, touching Louis’ arm and steadying him.

 

“What’s wrong? Give me the phone, I’ll call him now. I’ll call a plane, I need to go,” Louis starts babbling, his mind racing.

 

“When I spoke to her they weren’t sure, Harry fainted and he was bleeding. Louis, I need you to calm down for Harry,” he replies calmly. Louis nodded, taking a deep breath and willing his palms to stop shaking.

 

“I don’t know if you can speak to Harry, but you can speak to Anne. I’ve already organised the plane, we can get you out of here in under an hour.”

 

“Ok.”

 

They manage to grab Louis’ things for him while he gets onto a team bus that is heading straight for the terminal. Louis’ fingers don’t stop jittering until Anne finally picks up the call.

 

“I am on my way now,” he says desperately, like a plea to her, Harry and the universe.

 

“They think it might be okay, he is awake. He won’t stop asking for you. I need to go, we’re going into a scan.”

 

.

 

Harry knows he spent too long on his feet when he gets home. He is trying his best to keep his load easy and light but he struggles. He even gave up going to the supermarket on the way home from work because he was feeling so weak. He throws his belongings across the dining room table and avoids stepping on Leia as she chases his toes.

 

He is too tired to think about watching the game, it has almost completely passed his mind and it feels distant. He misses Louis, but he only saw him yesterday. He can’t remember what he ate for lunch. If he naps now maybe he will catch the end.

 

Harry reaches for Leia’s dinner on the top shelf and feels a rush of heat and a cold drop.

 

“Oh,” Harry whispers to himself, frowning. His hand reaches out to grip the countertop as he winces through an unexpected cramp. In a split second it doesn’t feel normal anymore and his stomach turns. “No,” he says automatically.

 

“Darling, are you hungry?” His mother says, opening the glass doors that separates the kitchen to the dining. “Harry,” she continues, slightly worried. He turns to her and she catches his pale face before he slumps against the counter, limp and weak.

 

.

 

Louis doesn’t stop moving until he is pushing the door open and taking his husband into his arms. He barely looks like him, Harry looks pale and like a shell of himself, wrapped in stiff hospital blankets and hooked onto a machine.

 

Harry’s entire body shakes, it heaves with every sob he takes and it hurts Louis. He aches. He wraps his entire body around his husband, like maybe it will help. But the hurt manifests itself both emotionally and physically between them. It is fear, and the crippling feeling of them both being so overwhelmingly scared of the unknown.

 

“I thought,” he cries, his tears wetting Louis neck and the collar of the t shirt he had thrown on in transit. “I thought I lost her,” he continues. Louis instantly tightens his grip, holding them flush, a hard carding through his hair to soothe. He clutches him like he wants to make them one, like he could just blend them together and take away all the hurt and keep all three of them safe.

 

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “You’re fine, she’s fine.”

 

Harry nods as he sniffles. “I was so scared,” his voice cracking and breaking.

 

“You’re both safe now.” It feels a bit like a lie, because while they are okay. It doesn’t feel like it.

 

.

 

They stare at a pile of fancy, but confusing, scans, charts and paperwork that the doctors place in front of them. “We’ve kept you on the drip Harry because you were severely dehydrated and low on sugar and iron,” the doctor explains.

 

Their specialised midwife nodding along adds, “You’re eating and prepping for two of you now . Your vitals now aren’t that much different from before you were pregnant but it is putting a huge strain on your systems. Normally a body would compensate, but you didn’t seem to.”

 

She advises them on the necessary precautions to take and what foods and vitamins she wants Harry to be taking. “And stress,” she says, “I want as much of a zero stress environment as possible. Because stress puts pressure on you, which puts pressure on baby and results in what we saw last night. You might definitely bleed occasionally, a little can be normal, but anything like we saw yesterday we need to avoid.”

 

If Harry takes away anything from it all, it is that he is bad at being pregnant. Or more so, his body is bad at it.

 

.

 

_Alderley Edge, Greater Manchester. UK._

 

“It’s not pretty,” Sophia says laying the newspaper flat between them on their coffee table.

 

Harry is bundled up in blankets and resting his head on a pile of pillows with Leia poking her little black head out but darts his eyes down. Louis already has his hand on the offending item.

 

“NO BABY FOR THE TOMLINSON’S: MISCARRIAGE HOSPITAL DRAMA.”

 

“That is disgusting,” Harry sneers, turning his nose up and curling his palm around his barely there belly beneath the blankets. He rubs a couple of gentle circles as Louis reaches out to grab at his knee, anchoring them together. “How could you write filth like this, imagine if we really…”

 

He doesn’t finish the thought, but shakes his head instead and sips from his herbal tea.

 

“They have no morals babe,” Louis says, looking at the blurry picture of him getting off the plane in the dead of the night. They all knew there was a risk, the plane was scheduled to arrive back with some crew at that time and press were aware of it. So when Louis disappeared from post match conferences and from the stadium their ears must have perked up. It was from there it seems they were tipped off he went straight to Harry.

 

“We have multiple options here. Ignore the story completely, no comment from me and we keep everything under wraps. Or, I deny the story and we keep baby secret. And lastly, we say fuck it and deny it by saying Harry and the baby are perfectly healthy,” Sophia explains, counting them out on her fingers. “Only problem is, if we ignore it they will get suspicious and try to snoop more.”

 

Louis looks over at Harry who stares down into his mug. His face is still pale and the rings under his eyes dark, he hasn’t been sleeping well and Louis knows it. Harry isn’t good sleeping without Louis or in beds that aren’t their own. The hospital bed didn’t do wonders for his back either. But the biggest stress of all is this. Louis knows he is scared, frightened they will have to say something too soon and share their joy with the world only for her to be ripped away. He knows, because he feels it too.

 

She is theirs. Call them selfish, but they want that to last as long as possible.

 

“It is up to you darling,” Louis tells him, rubbing his thumb against his knee despite it being hidden under mountains of blankets. Louis can tell Harry has one hand clutching his stomach, he does it a lot. Louis can’t help but smile softly, his fighter, that is what Harry is, the word rings true in his ears. They are his two fighters, stronger than Harry will care to admit to. He has always been Louis’ rock, and Louis’ knows he will be the anchor of their family.

 

Harry sighs. “I don’t know.” He pauses before continuing, “Because second problem, we say something too early and then the worst happens, what they said comes true.”

 

“Baby,” Louis reacts instantly, his hand clutching onto him tighter and catching his worried eyes in his own. “You heard the doctors, this can be quite is normal.”

 

“Yeah, in people twice my age or on their fifth kid,” Harry grumbles. Louis can’t help but adore his grumpy kitten face and pouty lips. “Two more weeks,” he finishes. “We deny the story, say I’m fine and just ignore the rest. But then two weeks and we can do whatever we please.”

 

Louis agrees. It only seems reasonable. “If that is what you want,” he smiles.

 

The last three days have been the most draining Louis could have ever experienced from the deepest of lows to the peaks of relief, he can’t help but take it for what it is. He definitely thought for a period they would never be here, so he will take the bad days with the good. It will be worth it in the end. He smiles softly at Harry and how his head pokes out his blanket pile, admiring the flush that works it’s way onto his cheeks. He missed it and he tells him that much.

 

.

 

 _“M_ _iss Elizabeth. I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past months have been a torment. I came to Rosings with the single object of seeing you... I had to see you. I have fought against my better judgment, my family's expectations, the inferiority of your birth by rank and circumstance. All these things I am willing to put aside and ask you to end my agony.”_

 

Leia scratches at the side of the sofa and Harry crunches a carrot stick between his teeth as he waits for it. “Shh,” he scolds, as the cat meows impatiently. He swats her away. He is a bad dad to his fur baby.

 

 _“I don’t understand_ ,” Elizabeth replies.

 

_“I love you. Most ardently.”_

 

The front door clicks open as Leia scampers off completely disregarding Harry’s existence in favour of Louis. But Harry’s mouth is hanging open and he is sitting on the edge of the couch like he hasn’t watched this film a thousand times. The rain keeps pouring outside and on Elizabeth and Darcy.

 

“At least it isn’t titanic _again_ right?” Louis sighs to Leia who he holds in one palm, the two of them growing tired of this daily occurrence.

 

Harry pauses the flat screen. He can’t have Louis talking over the best scene in the whole film. “Or, Grease,” Harry bites back with a cheeky wink.

 

“Thought you were working from home?” Louis says, plopping Leia on the couch so she can hide beneath the pillows and pointing toward Harry’s open laptop and papers on the coffee table that have been ignored. He gives him a guilty look as a reply. “We got distracted,” he mumbles.

 

By we he means, himself, Leia and their ever growing baby. Harry rubs a hand across his slowly growing belly, it seems this week he just looks that _little_ bigger if he wears a tight fitting shirt and sits down. Louis gets down on his knees and tugs Harry by his hips toward the edge of the sofa. Harry moves easily with little resistance, knowing what is coming. Against the soft fabric of his shirt, Louis presses his face against Harry’s stomach for a kiss like he has done every single day since Harry told him.

 

Louis rubs his hand across the curve like he can’t believe they have been given the opportunity to do so and kisses it like he knows just what an honour it is. Harry loves how he loves him, and their family already, unconditionally and eternally. Their baby girl is going to be the most adored. They are the luckiest pair in the world to be gifted Louis.

 

“We kicked lots and we missed you,” Harry whispers, not wanting to interrupt Louis but so desperately wanting to speak.

 

“I did too,” he smiles up at him. “And I bought dinner.”

 

Harry sighs. “Oh, I love you.”

 

Louis mumbles something against Harry’s belly that he doesn’t catch properly but makes Harry’s eyebrows jump up. “What did you call her?”

 

He looks up with the same expression as he does when he swears he didn’t leave wet washing on their bathroom floor or shoes on the carpet. “Nothing important,” he says, full of pure guilt.

 

“Did you name our baby without asking me?” Harry wails, pushing Louis’ forehead away from him with his hand.

 

“No,” Louis moans, with a cheeky smile. “Quinn is just a cute name that’s all. I’ve liked it for ages, and when they said she was a girl-”

 

Harry glares at him, horrified, and crosses his arms. “I can’t believe you! It’s not her name.”

 

“You like it.” He has that glint.

 

He hates his husband. Harry momentarily wonders if the last 8 years of his life were all a waste, he is sure it is the hormones talking, but he would slide his ring off if his fingers weren’t swelling and it would actually budge.

 

Louis smiles and wraps his hands around Harry’s ankles. “If you didn’t like it you would be kicking me out of this room right now and forcing me to sleep on this very sofa tonight. I know you like it.”

 

Harry shoots him daggers and doesn’t show a drop of emotion other than pure anger. He tries not to let the endearment seep in. “I only won’t make you sleep here because I need someone to rub my feet so I can fall asleep, and you know I like being cuddled,” he pouts.

 

“Ok darling,” Louis replies. “I believe you.”

 

He leans in and pecks at the bare skin of his knee that peaks out on the ripped patch of his jeans. “Quinn Tomlinson does sound nice though doesn’t it?” He adds because apparently he doesn’t value his life. Or their marriage.

 

“You’re lucky you bought dinner, because I wouldn’t be cooking for you with this disrespect Tomlinson,” Harry bites, a little smirk working its way onto his lips. He hates that he enjoys this.

 

“Not even if I bent you over the back of this sofa and apologised by eating you out just the way you like it?”

 

Harry narrows his eyes. “It might help.”

 

.

 

They have a never ending stream of unwanted media attention prying on them. It comes with the territory but sometimes too far is too much especially when Louis can’t just disappear. He has training to do, press conferences to attend and promotional deals and obligations he has no choice but to fulfill. In response he gets questions that push all his buttons and intense intrusions into their private life no matter how far his team pushes the restrictions. But he promised Harry two weeks, so two weeks is what he gets.

 

But when the clock strikes over and they know it is time, Louis presses post on a shot of Harry curled up wearing Louis kit and their joined hands resting on his bump, their matching wrist tattoos lined up prettily and tangled within each other. Sophia sends the statement she has been not so secretly waiting on for almost two years.

 

_“We can confirm the couple are expecting their first child and are thrilled at the impending arrival. Both Harry and their child are doing well, and appreciate the well wishes.”_

 

And, if Harry instagram’s his favourite picture of Louis and captions it “Hey Daddy” that is his own, completely unrelated and innocent business.

 

.

 

“Breath in, and hold it,” their instructor says softly, soothingly and as calm as possible. She pauses for what feels like three hours. “And breath out,” she sighs.

 

Louis has absolutely no idea why his presence is required here. But he loves Harry and everything, so unsurprisingly he is in attendance for prenatal couples yoga without a single verbal complaint.

 

Also, unsurprisingly they are amazing at this. While all the other couples struggle to hold each other and support their pregnant partner, Harry and Louis breath in and out with ease and total tranquility. Harry opens one eye and catches both of Louis’ staring back at him, his strong arms hold him, and their averagely bumpy baby bump. Harry trusts him completely and all of his weight and worries fall between them. He can’t say the same for the couple in front of them who keep wobbling about. Louis laughs and Harry shushes him because he doesn’t want his giggles jostling them around and he doesn’t want to get told off.

 

Instead their instructor points them out positively. “Everyone take hints from Harry and Louis, look how they trust each other and meld their spirits together,” she says, raising her fist and clenching it. Louis eyebrows jump and Harry tries not to burst out. Harry continues his soothing breaths as if he were about to give birth. He likes to imagine he will be this calm when the day comes, but he doubts it.

 

They last the entire lesson without dropping each other or Harry having to run to the bathroom to pee, so it is a win for all. The other couples can’t say the same. And despite Louis’ internal angst about it all he silently enjoys it way more than he thought it would. Harry hands him the water bottle he bought for him and drinks from his own matching monogrammed one. Louis throws him a towel and Harry catches it effortlessly and blots his face. As Louis empties his water down his throat he leans in to brush a loose curl from Harry’s forehead casually.

 

Harry thanks him with a little air kiss and the couple besides them groans. Martha scolds Kevin, as she stomps out the door, because he never treats her like _that_ and he couldn’t even do the basic holding technique properly. Louis almost spits his water out all over Harry from the look they give each other.

 

“Oh my god, we are ruining marriages,” Harry squeaks. Louis leans in to tug him by the waist and Harry tries to shove him away with a laugh. But Louis takes him easily into his arms. “We do set the bar pretty high,” he says cheekily. “She’s not giving you trouble?”

 

Harry looks down at his curvy little bump that pokes out proudly from his tight fitted yoga shirt. His bump is the cutest. “Nope,” he smiles, rubbing his hand across it. “She slept the entire time, not a peep. I think she likes your voice, gets it from me.”

 

Louis grin is blinding. “Of course.”

 

.

 

Gemma has been acting strange all day and Harry blames it on her recent breakup. So he doesn’t mention it, instead he lets himself be tugged into every and any baby store they can find with a smile on his face. His feet ache and he knocks this pile of clothing over in one store and can’t bend properly to pick it up. But he lets her indulge in it all and fulfill the title of ‘world’s best aunt’ like the mug they surprised her with when they told her. She doesn’t need to know they gave matching ones to Lottie, Felicite, Daisy, Phoebe, _and_ Doris.

 

“I love these,” she says holding up tiny ballet slipper like baby booties. They are pale pink and shimmery. Harry takes them from her hand, inspects them for a moment before tucking them with the rest of his goods.

 

She picks up another pair, this time brown caramel coloured moccasins with fringed edges. “These are cute,” she says dangling them right under his nose.

 

“The gold ones,” Harry says, reaching onto the shelf and picking out the same style in metallic gold. He now has five pairs of shoes he can’t leave the store without and he is sure will not fit his daughter for another year or two.

 

He dumps them on the counter when he can finally tear himself away. “Don’t tell Louis,” his whispers to Gemma as he swipes his card, the sales assistant doing her best to not giggle like she sees and hears this too often.

 

Gemma rolls her eyes. “He is going to see them.”

 

“I’ll just tell him you bought them,” Harry smiles.

 

He thinks they will be on their way home since he has almost maxed out his credit card limit but instead Gemma demands she buys him a drink. Since mostly all caffeine is out of his diet they get smoothies until she stops checking her phone and agrees to deliver him back home.

 

Harry notices it as soon as they get to their street. He drops his empty smoothie cup in the cup holder. “How could you keep this from me! You’re throwing me a baby shower,” he wails. “A surprise baby shower.”

 

“How do you know that?” She shouts back.

“Look!” Harry says. He points to all the cars parked on either side of their small residential street and the masses of pink balloons lining their driveway. “It’s obvious!”

 

“Ugh,” Gemma moans, pulling in and parking. “Well, surprise then! I guess Louis doesn’t really know subtle.”

 

There are so many balloons. Harry opens the door of the car and slides out, clutching his belly as he places his feet firmly on the floor. “Did Louis do this? He did all of this?” He asks slightly in awe, waddling toward the front door.

 

“Yeah. He did.”

 

And then there he is, standing right at the door waiting on Harry. He looks so proud it actually makes Harry’s chest hurt and his eyes well up. Louis did this all for him, and their little girl. At one point Harry thought this would never happen, he would never be here and they were never going to get this chance. But here they are. Finally.

 

“Are you crying?” Louis asks, slightly bemused. “Baby, don’t cry,” he tries to soothe.

Harry wipes his eyes. There are so many people here that he loves, all his family, all his friends and everyone he would want. It is beautifully decorated and he has barely stepped inside and seen half of what is instore.And, Louis did it all despite knowing how meticulous Harry is about any sort of planned party or event.

 

“I’m not,” Harry pouts. “I’m happy, that’s all.”

 

Louis nods and winks at him. And Harry is reminded again and again why he loves him. Louis pulls out a silk sash from behind his back, white with gold polka dots, and slips it over Harry’s head. Louis delicate hands secure it politely over his bump.

 

“BABY MAMA,” Harry reads carefully. He swats Louis on the arm and then leans in to kiss him straight on the lips. They can’t get as close as they used to, with bump between them, but they make it work. He kisses him to let him know every feeling and word he can’t express verbally.

 

There are hundreds of balloons, and streamers, and every decoration you could imagine. They eat cookies and cakes in every shade of pink and gold, and Harry spends too much time stuck in a photo booth taking pictures of everyone kissing the bump. But he adores every second of it being showered with love for him and his baby girl by the people that are important to him and he knows will be here by his side every single step of their journey.

 

Harry lies in bed that night, unable to sleep, uncomfortable and hot but so happy. He can’t help but roll over and share it with the world. He shamelessly posts a photo booth image of Louis delicately kissing his cheek and writes, “My everything. I am so excited for you to meet our little girl and to watch you shower her with the same adoration and love you give to me. I am so lucky to be surrounded by such loving, generous, and thoughtful people. I am so ready and so lucky xx”

 

.

 

Louis buys them lots of things. He knows the exact stroller Harry has his eyes on and he snaps it up and gets it delivered straight to their door. The same goes for the baby cot that matches the new room perfectly. They get the walls painted with deep blues and purples and a thousand tiny stars for a little girl that will touch the stars and dream out anything she can possibly think of and think it in the realm of possible.

 

.

 

They are told early on that Harry will either have to deliver early or he will just naturally be early, but no matter what they were not lasting 40 weeks. But despite that, all the mental prep, the perfectly organised and meticulously ready baby room, and the emergency hospital bags packed, they are ridiculously surprised when it happens.

 

Harry’s face flickers with a sign of uncomfort and Louis’ ears and eyes perk up. He follows his body as he lowers himself onto the sofa.

 

“Okay babe?” He asks softly. He watches the furrow of Harry’s brow and the soft hand he places on the lower of his back. Harry nods a confirmation and settles.

 

“Fine. I just feel a little funny,” he sighs.

 

Louis takes that as he is not fine at all and he moves over toward his husband. He tugs Harry’s body toward him, his very large bump swelling out in front of him. “Let me rub your shoulders,” Louis says.

 

Harry would never say no to that, and he goes easily, slumping against Louis’ body and letting him work his magic. But every few minutes, as Louis’ hands work, and the television hums, Harry tenses a little and as time goes on, he feels it a little more.

 

“I don’t know what labour is supposed to feel like,” Harry says softly. “I mean obviously I’ve been told but-” he stops mid sentence to place his hands on his stomach and let out a deep breath.

 

Louis stops moving and waits. “But?”

 

“I think this feels like it,” he replies. “Or like the start.”

 

“Alright,” Louis says jumping up and moving into panic mode. His mind scrambles to think of what they need to do, grab and where they are going. His heart also starts racketing around in his chest because this is happening, this is really starting, they are having a baby-

 

“Hold on,” Harry grumbles.  “I don’t want to make a big deal if it is nothing.”

 

Louis looks at him with wild eyes and Harry simply stares back unmoving. Louis throws his hands up. “Alright. I’ll wait.”

 

It takes no less than ten minutes for Harry to shuffle around, get uncomfortable and give in.

 

“Okay. Let’s go.”

 

He forgets the idea of embarrassing himself with a false alarm with how real it feels and how much he doesn’t want a single thing to go wrong at all. By this time Louis has already sorted literally everything out like the super dad he is about to be. And Harry thanks God that he is here, not out of the house or worse out of the country, halfway across the atlantic ocean like Harry so desperately feared. It would have been okay, his sister and his mum have been super willing and happy to stay while Louis works. But it isn’t the same. He doesn’t know if he could do this without Louis.

 

Louis reaches out his hand and Harry takes it, he slowly stands, one hand clutching his belly and shuffling along. “Alright?” Louis asks, as soft as ever.

 

Harry nods. “Did you call?” He asks.

 

Louis smiles and nods. “Called Lisa, she will meet us there. Called your mum, called mine. The bags are in the car. Gemma will feed the cat. Don’t worry, all sorted. You just worry about having this baby.”

 

.

 

“Hold my hand,” Harry asks, as nicely as possible for someone covered head to toe in pain. Louis reaches his palm out without thinking twice, across the bed from where he sits in the seat next to the side as Harry’s right hand man, to tangle his fingers into his.

 

Louis remembers holding his hand as he said his vows and he grins all giddy and bright thinking about then and now. Harry bares his teeth as sparkling droplets of sweat cover his forehead and he suffers through the sudden onset of pain. The more he looks at Louis’ love sick expression the more he grins and bares it. “Stop looking like you’re having the time of your life, while I’m here suffering because of you,” Harry mumbles as he squeezes his eyes shut and lets out of a gush of breath, deep, and slow.

 

“Just remembering our wedding,” Louis whispers, well aware of the nurse reading the vitals on the fancy machines next to Harry’s bed. Other than her, it is just them in the room so he will be as gushy as he likes. He rubs his thumb over the back of Harry’s palm and admires the horrified look he is giving him, wide eyes and shock at his husband.

 

“Seriously? Right now?” Harry deadpans. “I’m glad you’ve got the time to be sentimental.”

 

He can tell Harry is feeling better and the intense pain has settled down again and he isn’t being pushed and shoved through a contraction. If he was, he would be ignoring Louis completely or telling him to shut up.

 

“Yeah, I do.”

 

Harry continues to scoff at him, but Louis takes in his hair all tied back and away from his face, his shiny forehead and puffy cheeks. He admires the evidence. Harry is probably even more stunning now, lying in his ugly hospital gown then he was in his custom Saint Laurent in that vineyard in Nice.

 

“You looked beautiful then, but you look even better now. I was just thinking about how far we’ve come, look at me and you,” he says, full of thick emotion. They are leaving this hospital with their daughter, and she will sleep in the room they painted for her and in the bed they made with their own hands.

 

Harry softens a little bit. “You are so sappy.”

 

Louis pulls their joined hands toward his mouth and kisses the back of Harry’s hand, the one without the IV. “I am. I love you, and can’t wait to meet our little Quinn.”

 

“That is not her name.”

 

“You haven’t given _any_ other suggestions at all. It is time to admit you love it babe.”

 

.

 

Inside Louis thinks he is pretty cool, shuffling around the cafeteria that sits between the children's ward and the maternity sections of the hospital. He like has this whole, ‘I’m gonna be a dad’ vibe down. He orders a coffee because he hasn’t slept at all. They were about to go to bed when it started and now the sun is going to peak over the horizon. He slipped out of the room because it was a quiet patch, and he could spare a few minutes of contemplation and deep thought and caffeine. The next time he walks out of that room, he will be a proper dad and all. Their little human will be here.

 

“Cappuccino?” The women behind the counter asks as she slides it across the bench toward him. Louis takes it in his palm with a quick nod.

 

“I’m going to be a dad in an hour or so,” he says, lifting the cup to his mouth and taking the smell in. He needs it.

 

She smiles. “You already said.”

 

.

 

Harry resists the urge for an epidural. He puts all the pressure on Louis hands instead, clutching them both desperately like he is his lifeline. It isn’t far from the truth. Harry was seventeen and watching one born every minute with his mother when he said he didn’t know how anyone could endure that sort of pain. She had told him he would be surprised what you could do and would do with someone you love right beside you on your team. And for someone you would love a thousand times more unconditionally for life.

 

He wondered then if Louis would be or could be that person. He thinks deep down he knew even then.

 

He feels like he might break in half and fail them all. But looking into Louis blue eyes (the ones he so desperately hopes she has) he knows that isn’t a choice. It isn’t an option on a team like this. He didn’t come this far and work this hard for her, to be weak. He has had far worse pain emotionally than the physical could ever deliver.

 

The midwife is telling him to push, and breath, Louis is telling him he loves him. It is quick and then she is here, and the first thing she does is cry. The most breathtaking and heart stopping noise, because she is breathing, and alive, and healthy and Harry can’t help but cry.

 

.

 

They planned this cute little outfit that they placed in its own bag but it is three sizes too big they realise the moment it is slipped on her. It is nice that the first move they make as brand new parents, is totally off mark. They can only go up from here. Louis fetches another smaller one piece as soon as possible.

 

The shiny diamond pendant, the shape of a cursive Q, catches the light around Harry’s neck as he kisses her little cheeks. Q for his Quinn, his little Queen. It hasn’t even been 24 hours but he is in love. The truest and purest kind of love, he never wants to put her down or share with anyone but Louis.

 

Quinn is tiny. She is smaller than they expected but perfectly perfect, strong and healthy. She has bright eyes when they blink open and catch Harry’s, she likes the sound of his voice when he talks to her soft little secrets and promises. He wonders if she remembers it from when he would rattle on to his belly or if she just knows that he is hers and she is his forever.

 

Louis returns from getting things ready to find them like that. Harry kissing the cheeks of his softly fed and sedated newborn like the precious gem she is and her admiring him like she knows she just got given the best dad in the world. He tries to sneak in and not disrupt but Harry smiles sleepily up at him.

 

“Almost ready?” He whispers.

 

Louis nods as he makes his way toward the bed as quick as possible and slides next to his partner. She is asleep now, out like a light and curled up on herself and into Harry. He shifts, trying not to wake her, and passes her to Louis. Harry is everything that is natural, he took to her like a duck to water the second they placed her against his chest, bare and brand new to the world. He knows it is because Harry just spent nine months with her. Louis tenses a little as he places her within his arms.

 

She is so delicate. He would do everything and anything to protect her to his last dying day, or until the sun runs out. He can’t believe they made her, and will get the chance of a lifetime to continue making and building her everyday for the rest of their lives together.

 

Louis looks up from her to Harry who sits awestruck next to him.

 

“I doubted this day would come,” he says soft, not hurting, not with pain.

 

“We did it,” Louis replies, looking straight into his eyes. Harry pecks him against his lips and leans down to peck Quinn’s buttery soft cheeks.

 

“Here we are,” Harry whispers.

 

“Ready to take her home?”

 

“Never been more ready.”

 

.

 

Harry rocks back and forth on the spot and side to side. He didn’t put his hair up today and that was a mistake. Quinn has just recently found out what her hands are and pulling is her new favourite found hobby. She tangles her hand through his hair and tugs, he switches positions so she faces outward toward the stadium instead. She likes it and her little gold bootied feet kick about as her blue eyes peer out at the new sight. Harry grins down at her as she waves her arms out and babbles nonsense.

 

“I’m just so tired, like I couldn’t care. And then on top of that I just don’t feel like me any more,” one of the other wives, Perrie, up in the box says. “And that just isn’t sexy. I know he doesn’t find me sexy.”

 

The other nods in agreement and Harry bites the inside of his cheek. He feels completely out of depth in this conversation and prays they don’t look at him. He places all his attention onto Quinn but Emma calls him out.

 

“What about you Harry? Louis still getting it?”

 

The honest truth is that sure, the first few weeks were different. Harry did feel a little out of depth post baby, but Louis was there and he is the most supportive person in the world. If he didn’t feel like doing something there was no judgement or pressure.

 

And that is all Harry will ever need to feel content within their relationship. Six months later, Harry would probably say their post baby sex life is better than before by miles. He loves it. They make it work. There is always room for it if you make it and nothing like the way Louis appreciates and worships Harry in his new found role as a parent.

  
Hary hums and nods. “Yeah, he does” he says. He doesn’t really want to go into details about the way he rode him in the bath tub last night. “Well,” he smiles instead. “I am pregnant again after all.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and I will add my details after the exchange is done and all is revealed!


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